The Darkness of Mind
by PearlQ19
Summary: A guiltridden Draco Malfoy struggles with the consequences of his actions and makes a decision that will change his life completely.... MAJOR BOOK SIX SPOILERS! Please RR
1. Aftermath

**The Darkness of Mind **

_A/N: I've never been much of a Malfoy fan, although I do appreciate well-crafted villains. But the sixth Harry Potter book finally added the necessary depth to Malfoy's character, and I found myself haunted by a plot bunny that didn't let go until this story was finished. So here it is - my first Malfoy fanfic ever, dealing with a guilt-ridden Draco struggling with the dark consequences of his actions. Be warned; like most of my stories this is pretty sentimental and involves a lot of crying. This was actually meant to be a one-shot; a short story of about the length of "The Brightest Star in the Sky" (one of my other HP stories posted here), but the story somehow developed a life of its own and practically forced me to enlarge it by several chapters. Strange thing, mystifying..._

_MAJOR SPOILER WARNING FOR BOOK SIX - do NOT read this unless you've already FINISHED "Half-Blood Prince," or you'll regret it for the rest of your HP fandom days..._

_As usual, please send a review and tell me if you spot any grammar/vocabulary/syntax/whatever mistakes - thanks in advance J_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters, nor do I intend any copyright infringement. All characters mentioned were created by J.K. Rowling (takes a bow), and this story has been written for the sole purpose of creativity and free-of-charge enjoyment._

**Now for the story...**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_My mind is darkness now  
My God, I am sick!  
I've been used  
And you knew all the time  
God, I'll never ever know  
Why you used me for your crime!  
Your foul, bloody crime!  
You have murdered me!  
You have murdered me..._

_- "Judas' Death" from JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR_  
_(Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice)_

_And of my weeping something had been left,  
which must die now.  
I mean the truth untold,  
the pity of war,  
the pity war distilled.  
Now men will go content with what we spoiled._

_- Wilfred Owen, "Strange Meeting"_

**Chapter One - AFTERMATH**

Draco Malfoy clenched his teeth in the futile attempt to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It didn't help; the salty drips trickled down his flushed cheeks, which were glowing almost eerily in his otherwise deadly pale face. With an angry move of his hand he wiped them away, but fresh tears followed almost immediately. After a few more wipes that produced no effect other than that his sleeve ended up drenched, he gave it up and clenched his fists instead. He tried to tell himself that the tears were the result of the pain his fingernails caused as he dug them deep into the soft, white flesh of his hands, but who was he kidding?

The truth was that Draco Malfoy was guilt-ridden. He wouldn't dare to say it out loud, but here in the darkness of the shabby room where his only company was his ghostly reflection in the cracked mirror, Draco admitted that he had overestimated himself. He was not as cold and evil as he had hoped. He was not a killer, and despite everything his parents had imbued him with for all his life, despite family tradition, Draco discovered that he was different: he had a conscience; he was not unscrupulous. His wickedness and malice had its limits, and his final encounter with Albus Dumbledore had pushed him to these very limits. He had not been able to take the final step. He had not been able to perform the task the Dark Lord had set him. Severus Snape had completed it for him. And although the Dark Lord's wishes had been fulfilled, Draco's punishment had been merciless: Lord Voldemort had forced him to watch his mother being executed.

Perhaps this had been the moment when Draco finally got a grasp on what he had ignored all along. Despite all he knew of the Dark Lord, he had till then not fully appreciated the strictness and cruelty Voldemort bestowed even upon his own followers. Even during the year, when he had struggled to carry out Voldemort's wishes and had sometimes despaired with his task, he had, though afraid of Voldemort's punishment, never really believed the Dark Lord might actually do what he had threatened to if Draco failed. Not even when he had watched Snape speaking the Curse had Draco thought that Voldemort would have his mother killed. After all, the task had been completed, although by someone else.

Now that it was too late, Draco knew better.

He moaned as the memory stirred up again - he saw his mother being dragged into the room, her pale eyes wide with terror, making useless pleas to her sister Bellatrix, who stood beside Lord Voldemort, her expression stone-cold and bare of any emotion. He heard Voldemort's evil laughter as he ordered Snape to speak the curse, saw Snape's wand aim at Narcissa, who at that point had stopped pleading and only looked at Draco, heard Snape's voice speak the curse Draco had once wished to be able to perform.

The rest was a blur of flashing green light, screams, and howling laughter. The next clear memory was that of Narcissa lying on the floor, a look of unspeakable terror in her glazed eyes, which seemed to look accusingly at Draco as he knelt by her side, shaken by sobs threatening to choke him.

The only reason why he was not completely orphaned yet was that his father was safely locked away in Azkaban - by now the only place the Dark Lord could not get into. The prison was guarded by a special task force consisting of the most gifted and trustworthy Aurors, none of whom would give in to any temptation, coercion or curse on Lord Voldemort's part or that of his Death Eaters.

Had someone told him last year he would be glad that his father was in Azkaban, Draco would have laughed into his face before smashing his fist into said face. But now he _was _glad.

At least sort of.

He felt more lonely than ever before in the comfortable life he had led. His father was safe, but the point was that he was not here with him. Draco Malfoy had always been keen to get away from his parents as soon as possible; he'd felt embarrassed by the sometimes exaggerated love and care Narcissa had displayed; infuriated and sometimes intimidated by his father's proud arrogance, cold-bloodedness and strict persistence. Now he would give anything to be back with them.

Draco forced the memory back. He wiped his eyes again with his already soaked sleeve, blew his nose and splashed some water on his burning face. Then he looked into the cracked mirror and almost recoiled at the sight of himself. Nearly Headless Nick could not be much paler. But at least the tears, visible evidence of his weakness, had stopped flowing.

Guilt and shame were temporarily replaced by rage. Draco felt the strong urge to smash something. He was furious at himself for not having had the galls to do as he had been ordered; furious at Dumbledore, who had somehow managed to rouse these unbidden feelings in him; furious at Snape, who hadn't spoken a single word to him since Narcissa's death - not to mention that he had been the executioner...

Another picture slowly formed before Draco's eyes: a black-haired, green-eyed, bespectacled boy with a scar the shape of a lightning on his forehead. The boy Draco had hated more than anyone else in his entire life. But as he attempted to focus all his hatred on Harry Potter now, he couldn't. The blaze of burning fury inside him melted away, no matter how hard he tried to keep it alive. Instead, it suddenly occurred to him that he and Potter had more in common than ever before: both of them had been deprived of their families by the Dark Lord; both of them felt they were stuck in a place they didn't belong.

Draco gasped as he realized what he had been thinking. _A place they didn't belong. _Was it possible that he was beginning to doubt whether his allegiance to the Dark Lord was right?


	2. The Struggle Within

Chapter Two - THE STRUGGLE WITHIN 

"This is ridiculous, Draco," he muttered to himself. He had been brought up on values and convictions that included the Dark Arts; Voldemort's leadership was all that had mattered in the Malfoy family. Draco himself had always believed that it was the only true thing to do - follow the Dark Lord. But now he was beginning to doubt.

More memories stirred in him; memories that came unbidden, memories he'd rather forget. But he couldn't do anything against them.

He remembered the day Potter had seen him crying in the bathroom; the day when he had almost died from a curse Potter had cast upon him. This memory was familiar; Malfoy had conjured it up on purpose a few times in order to fuel his hate against Harry Potter. But it no longer worked - now, whenever Draco remembered that day, the clearest picture in his mind was Harry's face as he realized that the unknown curse he had employed against Draco was a truly dangerous one and might even kill him. Shock and horror had reflected in Harry's face, and while Draco in his place would probably have turned on his heel and run away, Harry had rushed to Draco's side, dropped to his knees beside him, all the while muttering, "No... no..."; he hadn't even hesitated to touch Draco. Then Snape had come and Draco had blacked out. But the last thing he remembered was Harry Potter kneeling beside him, his hands on his shoulders, and his face showing not the slightest trace of hate or anger - only shock, horror, self-reproach and sympathy.

And this was possibly the hardest thing about the whole situation: to know that the people Draco had detested were actually capable of feeling sympathy for him, no matter how miserable Draco had made life for them. Harry Potter had tried to help him, and Dumbledore had been ready to forgive him. Although Draco had worked against them, he had caught a glimpse of how it would have been like, had he been on their side. And what really disturbed him now was the fact that that insight had not been unpleasant.

"No," Draco murmured to himself. He was not going to cave in. He was better than the rest; he was no blood traitor. Now his mother was dead and gone, and his father was in Azkaban. His next of kin was now his aunt Bellatrix, and she was one of the Dark Lord's dearest Death Eaters - at least she used to be. He could just remain with her and prove true to his heritage. She would make sure he didn't falter in his belief in the Dark Lord's cause.

_But is it the right cause? _whispered a voice inside his mind. _Do you really want to stay faithful to the man who had your own mother killed just because you didn't carry out a task he didn't believe you could complete in the first place? You have family outside the Dark Lord's range, too. Your aunt Andromeda, your cousin Nymphadora..._

Draco sneered. Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora, better known as Tonks, were blood traitors; and besides, he barely knew them. Neither side of the family had much interest in staying in touch. His mother would turn in her grave if she knew what he was considering here.

Draco was shaken by the dueling forces inside him. He felt that he would have to make a decision soon. The Dark Lord would know if he was in doubt. He either had to quash that doubt, or give in to it. The problem was that his mind told him he should stay, whereas his heart contradicted.

_I don't have a heart, _Draco thought desperately. _I'm cold, merciless and evil. I could kill without hesitation. _

_You wish, Draco_, something else answered. _Dumbledore put it best: you are not a killer. The Dark Lord wanted you to try, but he knew all along you wouldn't make it. Still he punished you. You can't possibly believe that this punishment was justified..._

_It was! _Draco screamed secretly, desperately. _I failed. He had set me a task and I failed to complete it. _

But he didn't really believe what he was thinking. He remembered the short dialogue between his mother and the Dark Lord he had overheard. Narcissa had been pleading for her life, and in the course of it she had said, "Why do you take my life for something my son did? Why me?"

Voldemort had laughed and replied, "This is no punishment for you, Narcissa. When you're dead, you will no longer care. It's your son who will suffer. And I'm taking your life because Lucius is in Azkaban, and I cannot get to him. Besides, I appreciate Draco trying his best to perform the task. There's no need to take _all_ his family away from him."

Narcissa, close to tears, had not replied for a while. Then she had said, "So Draco's reward for having tried his best is that you take only one parent away from him. But what will my son do without me? I'm his mother!"

"I never had a mother," Voldemort had answered curtly, "and look what I've become: I am the most powerful wizard in the world, now that Dumbledore is dead. Your dear son will cope. Don't fret, Narcissa; sacrifices must be made, and this will be yours. It's for our cause."

"Depriving a boy of his mother - what good can that possibly bring our cause?" Narcissa had muttered.

After a short silence, Voldemort had said, very coldly, "Do you question my motives, Narcissa? Do you doubt your master?"

Draco had not heard more, but on the next day his mother had been killed.

_What kind of master is that? _the inner voice asked. _Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in the wake of this wizard who can hardly be called a man at all? What matters more to you, family tradition or your own convictions? Are you really, completely sure that you want this wizard to rule the world?_

"I don't know," Draco sobbed. All of a sudden, he cracked. His heart felt as if it was about to burst.

_I don't want to follow my mother's murderer, _he thought desperately, _but I've got nowhere else to turn. I can't just change sides. He'll find me; he'll kill me. I know how he treats traitors. My life won't be worth anything if I leave his side. I haven't got a choice... unless..._

Draco straightened; a hard, blazing look in his eyes. There was a way he could escape. He could go on to a place where nothing could harm him anymore.


	3. Catharsis

Chapter Three - CATHARSIS 

"We've got to find him!" Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. "He might be in deep trouble."

Ron was skeptical. "I think we should leave him to You-Know-Who," he said. "Serves him right, doesn't it?"

Harry debated for a while. True, he could just forget Malfoy and never think of him again, at least until he met him again at Voldemort's side. But then he remembered the desperate look in Malfoy's eyes and the wild hope that had flickered in them when Dumbledore had offered him to change sides and join his own ranks. If the other Death Eaters hadn't appeared right then, Malfoy might have spared Dumbledore's life and followed them. Things had turned out differently, but Harry could not forget how Malfoy's hand with the wand had trembled and lowered down; could not forget how worn and lonely Malfoy had looked in the bathroom. He had seen that there was something good in Draco Malfoy, and this was enough to make it impossible for him to keep hating Malfoy and leave him to his fate.

"I think Harry's right," Hermione said. "From what Harry says, Malfoy is not at all one hundred percent convinced of what he's doing. It might well be that he only became a Death Eater because it's family tradition."

"That's baloney!" Ron contradicted. "He's a free person, isn't he? He can make his own decisions."

"I'm not so sure," said Hermione. "With Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy as parents, there's not much room for free decisions, is there? He was probably acquainted with the Dark Arts at a very early age; I reckon he knew nothing else. Of course he took over the traditional attitudes of the family. Just like you, Ron, never once considered changing sides. It runs in the family."

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry cut across him.

"So will you help me find him? Hermione? You can Locate him, can't you?"

Hermione nodded. "I only need a pendulum and a map," she said.

"I'll go get it," Harry said. He got up and went down into the kitchen, only to bump into Tonks, who had just entered the kitchen by the back door.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said cheerfully.

Ever since she and Remus had become a couple Tonks had been her former self again. Harry looked at her and smiled. He liked Tonks, not only because she was a nice person with a good sense of humor but above all because she made Remus happy. And it was important to Harry that Remus was happy. He had grown closer and closer to the werewolf over the past few weeks, probably because Remus knew best how Harry felt. Both of them had loved Sirius; both of them were only what they were thanks to Dumbledore. Their pain was equal.

"Hi, Tonks," said Harry eventually. "Do you know where I can find a pendulum? And a map?"

"Whom are you trying to Locate?" Tonks asked, but shook her head when Harry hesitated. "Sorry, none of my business. _Accio _pendulum!"

From a shelf behind Harry, a pendulum flew past. Tonks caught it elegantly with her left hand and gave it to Harry. "Map's over there," she said and pointed at another shelf.

"Thanks." Harry took the map and the pendulum and returned upstairs.

Hermione laid the map on the table and took the pendulum. Muttering a spell, she started to swing the pendulum back and forth. Ron and Harry watched in silence as she repeated the spell a second and a third time. Finally the pendulum glowed and thumped down on one spot of the map.

"Got him," Hermione announced. She took a closer look at the map. "London," she said. "Some place called Spinner's End."

"How on earth shall we get to London?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Well, I'm going to Apparate," said Hermione. "And you two don't have a license, but when did that ever stop you?"

"What if I leave more behind than half an eyebrow?" Ron asked fretfully. "It really matters this time..."

"I'll take you Side-Along," said Hermione.

"Alright." Ron stepped beside her. "What do I have to do?"

"Cling to me," said Hermione. "You'd best put your arms around me, that'll get you the best possible grip."

Harry frowned slightly. He had Side-Along Apparated with Dumbledore, but he remembered very clearly that he hadn't had to embrace Dumbledore... He looked at Hermione. She winked at Harry with a smirk, and Harry understood. Another female trick, it appeared. Ron blushed slightly as he put his arms around Hermione's waist and linked his fingers together.

"You ready?" asked Harry. Hermione nodded.

Harry was just about to start when someone knocked on the door.

"Blimey," muttered Harry, but then he called, "Come in!"

The door opened and Remus entered the room. He raised one eyebrow as he saw Ron and Hermione locked in a tight embrace, and the two blushed simultaneously and hastily let go of each other.

Harry cleared his throat to interrupt the embarrassing moment. Remus looked slightly disheveled, as if he had been in a great hurry.

"What's wrong, Remus?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort killed Narcissa Malfoy," Remus said. "He thought it appropriate that Draco should be punished because Severus killed Dumbledore on his behalf. He couldn't get to Lucius, so he had Draco's mother executed."

Ron grimaced. "He's got a funny way of keeping his followers under his sway," he remarked. "I wouldn't remain faithful to someone who kills my own mother."

Harry watched Remus closely. "You think we should go looking for Malfoy, don't you, Remus?" he said silently. "You think this might be a good time for us to convince him to change sides."

Remus offered a weary smile. "Exactly, Harry," he said. "Up to now, Voldemort's cruelty has not directly reached Draco, but now, with his own mother killed... This might be the moment for him to make a decision."

"I don't see why we should even bother," Ron said. "Draco never seemed particularly courageous to me, and he's not exactly what you would call a powerful ally. So what's the point in sending us out to get him at all?"

"First and foremost, Ron, it's never pointless to save someone from himself, be it an enemy or not," Remus said earnestly. "And while Draco himself may not be a powerful ally, the very fact that we managed to make him change sides will annoy Voldemort beyond measure. He is very sure of Draco's allegiance, otherwise he would make greater efforts to keep him at his side. Just imagine how angry he will be when he finds out that one of his most faithful followers has turned from him! He may do something he'll regret later, and this might be our chance."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Brilliant, Remus," she whispered. "This is what the Muggles call 'psychological warfare,' I guess." She turned to Harry and Ron. "Off we go," she said.

"I'm coming with you," said Remus. "I have a bad feeling. We'd better hurry up, or we might be too late."

"Too late for what?" Harry asked.

Remus just shook his head. "Destination, Deliberation, Determination," he said warningly, but with a sparkle in his warm eyes.

Ron went back to Hermione, and the four of them Disapparated.

**xxx**

He cannot think clearly. His vision is blurred by tears; his mind is darkness now. He feels nothing as he points the tip of his wand at his left wrist. He does not speak the incantation yet; he remains motionless with his wand hovering an inch above the pulsating vein he is going to slit open. He knows no further. His life is lying shattered at his feet; his revered master shows no mercy and his mother is dead. His allies, the fellow Death Eaters, are shunning him, and his friends do not dare stay in touch. He is at the bottom of his life, and while he is debating the rightfulness of his allegiance to the Dark Lord, he cannot muster the courage to break away. There is no way out, and who is going to miss him, anyway? He feels as if the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. Something has gone terribly wrong.

For a moment, Potter's face appears once again before his mind's eye - green eyes wide in shock and regret. Bitterly, Draco realizes that Potter is stronger than he is. The ability to forgive the enemy has never been very well developed in the Malfoy family.

Draco looks down on his wrist once again. He hears a clatter downstairs in the room, but he does not pay any attention to it. Although he knows that no one is home at the moment, he has other things on his mind than the possibility of a burglar entering the house. There is not much to steal, anyway.

He focuses again on the spell he is about to speak, memorizing the words very carefully. If he says it wrong, he might end up injured or crippled, but not dead. And he knows very well that he will not try again. It's now or never.

He opens his mouth to speak, but then he freezes right to the spot. He hears voices downstairs, and if he didn't know better, he would swear it's Potter. But that's impossible, he tells himself. Still he pauses, holds his head still and tries to overhear what is being said downstairs.

"…somewhere here…" he hears the Granger girl say, and, "…got to find him before…" (Potter) and, "…not too late…" (he knows this voice, too, but cannot place it.)

What – or rather, who – are they talking about? Draco wonders. They cannot possibly hope to find the Dark Lord here. Are they looking for Snape? Or Wormtail?

"Malfoy?" someone calls out downstairs, and Draco jumps. Did he hear that right?

"Draco Malfoy?" That is the other voice, which he can now identify as that of Remus Lupin, the werewolf. This time, he cannot be mistaken. They are looking for him. Here. But why? Do they want to take out their revenge?

Draco turns away hastily and concentrates again on his wand, his wrist, and the spell that is going to end the miserable life he is now leading. His fingers are shaking. Any moment the door might open and they will find him. He wants to be dead by then.

He presses his eyes shut and speaks the spell. He hears a hiss, feels a searing pain on his wrist and the warm dripping of his own blood. But something's wrong…

Draco opens his eyes and sees that his spell has missed the vein. It has merely scratched his skin and a small but steady flow of blood trickles out of the wound..

Something inside Draco is breaking, and he bursts into tears. He aims his wand at the wound and is about to speak the spell again when the door is opened and someone enters the room.

"Draco?"

It is Harry Potter, and Draco sees the surprised expression on his face cave in when he notices the blood and Draco's wand pointing at his wrist.

Draco turns and looks at Harry. He does not care that his face is streaked with tears and that all his desperation lies open to the enemy.

"Hello, Potter," he says and struggles to keep a spiteful tone in his voice. "You don't have to make your hands dirty killing me. I'm doing it myself. See?"

His last word is choked on sobs, and Draco looks away again. He prepares his wand one last time and takes a breath to speak the spell.

**xxx**

"No!" Harry screamed when he saw what Draco was about to do. He dropped his wand, jumped forward and hit Draco's wand with the back of his hand. Draco lost his grip and his wand fell to the floor and rolled away, out of reach.

Draco screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to hit Harry, but Harry sidestepped him. Draco turned around and reached for his wand, but Harry took him by the arm and held him back.

"Don't, Draco!" he shouted.

Draco struggled against his grip. "Let me go, Potter!" he sobbed, his words barely understandable. "It's all over, it's over…"

"Nothing's over, Draco," Harry said soothingly. "We came here to find you."

"Let me go!" Draco cried harder and harder, but Harry felt his resistance weaken. If only the others were here, he thought. He could use some help to calm Draco down, who was still struggling against his grip, but his efforts were weakening as his whole body was shaken by a desperation too big for Harry to imagine.

Harry did not let go of Draco's arm when he dropped to his knees beside him, pulling Draco down with him. Draco tumbled against him and Harry grabbed him around the middle in a clumsy embrace. He felt something inside Draco give in as his former archenemy leaned his head against Harry's chest.

"We're gonna help you," Harry murmured, awkwardly patting Draco's shoulder. "You're no longer alone, you hear? Come with us and everything will be alright. We're going to avenge your mother's murder." He kept saying things like that, all the while holding the boy whom he had once hated more than anyone else.

Hermione, Ron and Remus entered the room a few minutes later. While Ron still looked skeptical, Hermione and Remus rushed to Harry's side.

"Draco," Remus said softly, touching his shoulder.

Draco looked up, his eyes red and swollen from the crying. A shadow fell on his face when he recognized Remus and Hermione, and Harry looked at Remus. They had to do something quickly before the moment was getting awkward.

Remus nodded silently; he had understood what Harry had wanted to tell him. He reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out a small phial with a light blue liquid in it. "Drink this," he said and smiled encouragingly at Draco. "It'll make you feel better. And then we should make haste to get out of here. I don't want to bump into Severus."

Draco winced at the name. "I can't come with you," he said. His voice sounded choked and hoarse. "They'll find me. They'll kill me. I've got to stay here."

"Don't be silly," Hermione said resolutely. "You can't possibly consider remaining on Voldemort's side after all that he's done to you. There is nothing here for you now, is there?"

"My mother would have wanted me to," Draco said.

"Your mother's mind has been twisted by his dark magic," Remus said quietly. "She wouldn't have wanted you to suffer, don't you think?"

Draco did not answer, but he took the phial from Remus and downed the liquid that was inside. Instantly, he looked better. Color returned to his pale complexion and he straightened.

"If I leave, he'll be furious," Draco said. "He'll be after you lot. He'll kill you, too."

"That's not exactly news to us," Harry said with a hint of cynicism. "By now I think he should know that killing us is not as easy as he thought."

"You two can discuss that later," Hermione interrupted. "We should really get out of here. Come on, Draco."

She extended one hand, and after a moment, Draco took it and let her help him get up. He and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, and it occurred to Harry that in this instant they buried the hatchet. There was no need for an apology from either side.

Harry and Hermione both turned to Ron, who finally pulled himself together and joined them.

"Let's get you out of here," he said to Draco. It sounded a little stiffly, but Harry knew that this had been a great step for Ron.

"Yes," he said. "Come on, Draco, we're going to Disapparate."

"I… I don't think I…" Draco blushed. "I don't have a license."

"Neither do I," said Ron. "Hermione's taking me Side-Along; you just go with Harry or Remus."

"Lean on me," said Remus and took Draco gently by the arm. "You don't have to do anything. Just hold still and try to concentrate. It's easier for me if you add a little determination." He smiled.

Ron frowned and looked at Hermione. "I thought you had to cling to the person you're Apparating with?"

Harry grinned and quickly looked away. It seemed as if Hermione's little trick had been uncovered. Hermione just shrugged coolly and cast Ron a glance that was definitely coy. Ron looked confused and preferred not to pursue the matter any further.

"Alright, we're going back," said Remus. "Are you ready?"

Ron reached out for Hermione's arm. "It's your fault if half of me will be left behind," he hissed.

"Shut up," Hermione said, mockingly patting his hand. "I'll see to it that you'll return in one piece."

"We're ready, Remus," said Harry loudly.

Remus nodded and Disapparated without further comment. Ron and Hermione followed a second later.

Harry took some moments to look around in the shabby room. He shuddered. Little wonder that Draco had fallen into a deep depression. The room was dreary and stark, and Harry felt no desire to spend any more time here. He concentrated on the Burrow and Disapparated.


	4. Forgiveness

Chapter Four - FORGIVENESS 

Molly Weasley eyed Draco with some caution but could not hide her sympathy. When Remus had finished telling her what had happened, the mother in her took over.

"Oh, you poor, poor boy," she said. She made as to take Draco in her arms but thought better of it and patted him on the shoulder instead. Draco looked down on the floor and did not say anything. Harry thought he knew what was going through his head. Draco Malfoy had always spoken with hatred and contempt of Molly Weasley and her family. It must be quite uncomfortable for him to be met with such warmth and kindness from the people he had despised.

"Uhm, Mrs Weasley," Harry said when he noticed that Draco was almost squirming. "I think Draco really needs some rest now. Where does he sleep?"

"Percy's room, dear," said Molly. She looked at Draco scrutinizingly. "You're very thin," she said accusingly. "How long haven't you eaten?"

"I don't know," muttered Draco. "Been awhile. A few days, I reckon. But I'm not hungry."

"A few days!" Molly wanted to say more, but Remus cut across her.

"He'll eat tomorrow, Molly. Thank you. I think after all that has happened today it would really be the best thing if we all went to bed now. Come with me, Draco, I'll show you your room."

Remus turned around and left the kitchen, and Draco followed him. Halfway out the door, he stopped and turned around. Clearly at a loss for words, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out of it.

"It's alright, Draco," Harry said quietly. "Just go with Remus. You don't have to say anything."

Draco nodded. Then he followed Remus up the stairs and was out of sight.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"What a day!" said Hermione.

Harry and Ron agreed.

"Looks as if Draco Malfoy is becoming one of us," she continued.

"Can we really trust him?" Ron asked dubiously. "I mean, we also thought that Snape had left his past behind, and look where this has brought us to."

"It's different with Snape," said Hermione. "_His _mother was not killed by Voldemort. _He_ has been rewarded for what he did. Unlike Malfoy," she added pointedly.

"I also think that Draco is really changing sides," Harry said. "He was really desperate up there in the room. He was about to kill himself when I found him, and I think he really would have done it. How desperate must you be to commit suicide? I'm sure he didn't see any other way out."

"It was a good thing we found him," said Hermione. "But let's talk about it tomorrow," she added with a yawn. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, me too," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, let's go upstairs."

Ten minutes later they were lying in their beds, but while Ron took only a few minutes to fall asleep, Harry was tossing and turning between the sheets, and sleep did not come. Finally he got up again and traipsed downstairs to the kitchen in order to get a glass of water. He already had his hand on the doorknob when he heard voices: Remus and Tonks.

Harry turned around, not wanting to eavesdrop, when he heard Malfoy's name. He remembered that Remus had taken Draco upstairs into Percy's room. Maybe they had talked for a while. Harry was certain Remus wouldn't mind him hearing what he had to say. He silently opened the door and peered into the kitchen.

Remus and Tonks were sitting at the table. Tonks was playing with a glass of wine that was standing in front of her. Remus had rested his chin in one hand and one elbow on the table. His other hand was lying on the table, holding Tonks's.

Harry suddenly shied away. They looked so peaceful together – should he really disturb them? He decided to retreat when Tonks spoke again.

"I'm still not sure, Remus," she said. "Draco Malfoy did a lot of damage. We know very well in what kind of family he grew up. He was raised to be a Death Eater, and we shouldn't forget that."

"His mother is dead, and his father is in Azkaban," Remus replied. "His revered master has punished him for having tried his best."

Tonks frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He was supposed to kill Dumbledore," Remus explained. "But he failed. And as some twisted kind of reward, Voldemort executed only one parent. After all, he had threated to kill both Lucius and Narcissa if Draco failed in his task. But Draco told me that Voldemort never believed Draco would succeed, anyway. Severus had been instructed to take over from Draco and complete the task. So Narcissa died for nothing. This was the moment when Draco finally understood what the Dark Lord is and what he does. And he understood that he wanted no part in this."

"A little late, don't you think?" Tonks remarked bitterly.

"Forgive him," Remus said quietly. "You know what the Muggles say? There is more joy about one repenting sinner who is restored to goodness than about one hundred good people. We have won this battle. Voldemort will be furious."

"But Dumbledore…" said Tonks, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Draco wouldn't have killed him," Remus said. "Harry witnessed the whole scene, remember? If Severus hadn't intervened, Dumbledore would still be alive and Draco would have been with us far earlier."

"So much death around us," said Tonks. "We lost our leader. We've got to do something soon… rearrange the Order, distribute new tasks… Someone has to do Dumbledore's work."

"Albus wasn't the first to fall," Remus said quietly. Emotions flickered on his ashen face and his mind seemed to have wandered off to some other time.

They were now talking about of Sirius, Harry realized.

"I've got to be there for Harry," Remus said abruptly. "The boy has gone through way too much. Voldemort seems to be depriving him systematically of every father figure he's ever known."

"That's not true, and Harry will be alright," Tonks said firmly. "Yes, of course is he sad and angry and depressed, but he has those wonderful friends that can give him something to hold on to. And he has you, Remus. I suppose he will soon be ready to cope. It's you I'm worried about." Tonks raised her hand and touched Remus's cheek, and there was so much affection in this small gesture that Harry's throat suddenly started to narrow. It made him think of Ginny. "This is all becoming too much for you," Tonks continued. "You don't think of yourself at all, Remus. All you think about is the Order and Harry, and you worry if and how he will cope with Sirius and Dumbledore's deaths. But do you ever worry how _you _are going to handle that? Harry still has his friends, and you have lost your last one. Why don't you allow yourself to grieve?"

"I do grieve," said Remus silently. "I grieve horribly, Tonks. But I can't let it show. I must be strong for Harry, don't you understand?"

"No," said Tonks resolutely. "You'll break, Remus. It's just a matter of time. You are not carrying the weight of the world, so why do you think you have to? You have enough problems of your own; you don't need to be strong for someone else as well."

"You don't understand," said Remus, and his voice sounded strange. "He's the only connection to my old life that I still have. No one else is left. He is James's son, Tonks!"

"I know," said Tonks gingerly. "I understand that you have a special relationship with him. I know that he means a lot to you. But you did so much for everyone else in your life, Remus! Don't you think it's time you did something for yourself?"

When Remus spoke, it sounded as if every word caused him great pain. His voice sounded suffocated and shaky, with a hoarse undertone in it that cut right through Harry's heart. "There is nothing I can do for myself apart from being there for Harry," he said. "Sirius and Dumbledore would have wanted me to."

"But Sirius would not have wanted you to break in the attempt, and neither would Dumbledore," said Tonks, and her eyes clouded over. A tear formed in one of her eyes and slowly trickled down her cheek. She stroked Remus's cheek again and this time, Remus showed a reaction. He heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes. His shoulders moved convulsively as he was shaken by silent sobs.

"Let it all out, Remus," whispered Tonks. She got up and came around the table to stand beside Remus, and Remus sobbed again, louder; his eyes were blurred with tears that rolled down his cheeks when he closed his eyes again, and he reached for her. Tonks put both her arms around him and pulled him close. Leaning against her, Remus started to cry, and the sheer despair that spoke from his disconsolate sobs never seemed to cease.

Harry had seen enough. He felt slightly ashamed. This scene had not been for him to watch.

He turned around and went back to his room. He might as well get a glass of water from the bathroom.

When he lay in bed again, he pondered what he had just seen and heard, and he realized that he had never before thought about what Remus felt. He had, of course, thought that Remus was the person who understood him best, and he had also, to a certain extent, supposed that Remus had his own way to cope with the grief, but he had never before really _understood_ what it meant for Remus.

He had to see Remus cry in order to understand, and this was something that Harry now reproached himself with.

But the scene had also made him think about many things. Most importantly, about Ginny. He had not seen her for two weeks; she was in Romania, visiting Charlie. Harry had thought the separation might do them good, but he found himself missing her like hell. He told himself that it was his own fault – if he had not ended their relationship, they would still be together and none of them would have to miss the other. But he had made his decision. He did not want to put her, whom he loved so much, in danger. And keeping away from her was the only way he could protect her. Even against her own will.

_It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it? _That was what Ginny had said when he had told her they could not be together, and although Harry had more or less cut across her, he saw now that she had been completely right. No matter how noble his motives were, he had made this decision without even asking her what she wanted. And deep inside, Harry knew that Ginny would have followed him on the quest he was about to set out for.

He loved her, and she loved him. And now Harry thought that perhaps he should not exclude her from his life, no matter if it was for her own protection or not. In a way, this was how he helped Voldemort hold some kind of sway over him.

Harry turned around and decided to get in touch with Ginny and beg for her forgiveness. He did not want to miss her.

**xxx**

"Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Mr Weasley." Harry smiled at Arthur and then sat down on the kitchen bench beside Remus.

"Slept well, Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded and cast a furtive look at Remus. He looked tired, but no longer as sad and crushed as he had the past few days. What had happened yesterday between him and Tonks had probably done him good, Harry thought. He could still hear what Tonks had said: _You did so much for everyone else in your life, Remus! Don't you think it's time you did something for yourself?_ Harry silently agreed. Remus had indeed done a lot for him, and what had he ever done for Remus?

On impulse, he reached out for Remus's shoulder. "Remus," he said, "you've looked so tired for days now. Can't you take a break from whatever you're doing at the moment? You deserve some rest."

Remus looked at him, surprised and a little amused. "I can look after myself, thank you, Harry," he said and smiled. "I've got a lot to do."

Harry bit his lips. "Of course," he said quietly. "I just wanted to… frankly, I'm a little worried about you."

"About me?"

"You're doing most of the Order's work," Harry explained. "You bury yourself in tasks and jobs." He cleared his throat. "Well, what I want to say is that I'd like you to tell me if there's anything I can do for you. Things are not easy for you at the moment, either."

Remus looked at him. He seemed moved. "Thank you, Harry," he said after a short pause. "I really appreciate that."

"Promise me you'll ask for help if it's all becoming too much for you," Harry reiterated. "Don't think you have to look after me or spare me from something. I'm glad that you care for me, Remus, but I also have my friends. You… you don't have to be strong for me, you see," he added in a small voice. He had not meant to say that, but the thing he had actually wanted to say had suddenly sounded too cruel in his ears, so he'd refrained from saying it out loud.

The kitchen door opened again, and everybody turned around. Draco Malfoy entered the kitchen. He was still very pale and his face looked drawn and strained. But at least there was some life back in his pale blue eyes, Harry noticed with some relief. He had been worried yesterday; the look in Malfoy's eyes had haunted him even in his dreams.

There was an awkward pause, then Remus smiled and said, "Good morning."

"Morning," Draco mumbled and looked around. "Uhm…"

"Breakfast is almost ready," said Molly, who of course noticed that Draco was feeling rather uncomfortable. "Have a seat at the table."

Harry moved closer to Remus on the bench, making space for Draco.

The rest of the breakfast went in silence, apart from a few attempts at conversation on the parts of Remus, Tonks and Harry. But they were all still intimidated by the new situation, and their usual familiar atmosphere was disturbed.

One after the other left the breakfast table, some with, some without an excuse, until only Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were left.

Hermione looked at the others for one more minute, then she resolutely cleared her throat.

"Listen, boys," she said firmly, "this is no way to begin. We all need a little time to get used to the new situation, but there's no reason to cast suspicious glances all over the place. Draco, I think we need to talk. All of us."

Draco looked at her. "What is there for us to talk about?" he said, and a small trace of his old self was suddenly perceptible. But only for a moment; then he lowered his eyes. "You're probably right," he conceded. "But do me one favor and don't keep asking me questions about the last few days."

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded. They could all imagine how horrible those days must have been for Draco.

"What I want to know is just one thing," Hermione said, taking the lead. "Are you on our side now?"

Draco looked up, and his expression suddenly hardened. "You bet I am," he said with a passion completely unlike him. "He killed my mother. And they just watched it happen."

No one needed to ask who "he" and "they" were.

"How do we know it's not just some trick of yours to acquire our trust and then betray us?" Hermione continued.

Draco jumped up, his eyes now blazing. "Do you really think I'd have my own mother killed and attempt to cut my veins open just because I want to go undercover with the Order of the Phoenix?" he shouted angrily. "Don't think that everyone would do anything to be part of your gang, Granger!"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. Well, it would have been a miracle if Malfoy had completely changed his character. But Hermione, to everyone's surprise, smiled.

"Sorry, Draco," she said. "I must admit, I asked this question in order to provoke you. I'd figured, if you were sent to be undercover with us, you'd probably do anything not to annoy us – which would include not shouting at me. Your irritation was genuine, and I do believe you now."

"Does that mean you didn't believe me before?" Draco looked from Hermione to Harry. "Does that mean that after you saved my life up there in Spinner's End, you were still having your doubts as to my credibility?"

"We're at war, Draco," Harry said silently. "We don't know exactly what our enemy knows and what he plans. We've got to be careful, even suspect foul play anywhere. Although I never really believed it was all fake," he added. "Sorry to say that, Draco, but you never seemed like a brilliant actor to me. I never believed you pretended the state you were in yesterday. I believed you. And I still do."

"So do I," Hermione reiterated. "Welcome on board, Draco Malfoy."

"Yeah, welcome," Ron said hesitantly.

Draco stared at them. "Just like that?" he asked. "That's all? You're really accepting me?"

"Well, if the others have some more doubts, you may still take some Veritaserum and then have Mad-Eye question you," Ron said with a grin. "That should convince them as well."

"I'm sure they'll have their doubts," Draco said, a little bitterly. "After all, I'm the son of Lucius Malfoy, well-known Death Eater. I'm the school bully of Hogwarts. I'm not exactly the prototype of a trustworthy person."

"They didn't see you as we did yesterday," Harry said curtly.

Draco fell silent for a while. When he spoke again, he seemed to have trouble keeping his voice even. "Thank you," he said. "Despite everything I did to you…"

"Forgiven and forgotten," said Ron generously. "It's not that _we_ made life easier for _you_, either, isn't that right?"

Draco's lips curled into a small smile. "Well…" he drawled.

"Let's just get all that behind us, shall we?" said Hermione. "It's all in the past. You see, Draco, forgiveness isn't easy, but sometimes it's easier forgiving someone than keeping up the animosity."

"You have a point there, Granger."

"I always knew you were a bright girl, Granger," said Ron, imitating Draco's tone.

"Just because he's one of us now doesn't mean you two have to team up against me," Hermione protested.

Ron grinned, and Draco shyly joined in.

Hermione got up. "Well, I'm going to help Tonks now," she announced. "She's upstairs doing some surveillance, and she wants to show me the charms she uses."

"I'm coming with you." Ron followed her to the door.

Before she left the kitchen, Hermione turned around once again and looked at Draco. "I'm really sorry about everything," she said. "I'm so sorry."

Draco looked on the floor. "Thank you," he murmured.

Hermione glanced at Harry, smiled bracingly and left the kitchen.

Harry and Draco looked at each other.

"Well," Draco said finally. "Who would have thought things would turn out like this?"

"Certainly not I," Harry replied. "If someone had told me this one week ago…"

"… you'd have declared him a madman," Draco finished for him. "So would I." He sighed. "But that's the way it is, Potter. Here we are in the Weasley family's kitchen, teaming up against…" He trailed off.

"It's entirely up to us to make a good team," Harry said earnestly. "And one thing we should agree upon is that we'll be completely honest to each other. No secrets. I've had a few secrets in the past few years, and I can tell you it's not nice to carry the load all by yourself. If there is anything that brings you down, share it with us - that's what friends are for."

"Friends…" Draco mused. "Are you my friends?"

Harry grinned. "Neither of us has a choice, I reckon," he said.

"Alright, Potter." Draco smirked. "Let me ask you one thing… as a friend, of course: where the heck is Ron's sister? The one you used to be dating?"

Harry's grin faded from his face. "We're not seeing each other anymore," he said rather stiffly.

"Why not?"

"Well…" Harry squirmed. "Listen, that's a long and complicated story…"

"You don't want me to know, right?"

"That's not the thing," Harry lied, although it was exactly that – he felt that his heartache was none of Draco's business, friend or not.

Draco had watched him closely. "Listen, you don't have to tell me," he said after a short while. "But I can guess the rest, anyway – brave, heroic Potter probably told his girlfriend that it was too dangerous staying with him and that she'd be better off and safer if she didn't see him again. Right?"

Harry did not have to reply. His gaze spoke volumes.

"But is that the same brave, heroic Potter who told me just a minute ago what friends are for?" Draco continued, a hint of mockery in his voice. "If you ask me, Potter, you should make haste to get her back. The people you love won't always be there. Believe me, I should know."

Before Harry could think of a reply, Draco got up and went to the door. He turned around again and pointed to the window. "There's your owl, Harry," he said. "Get the letter she brought you, and then send one to the girl. You said it yourself: we're at war. Live every day as if it were your last." He smiled, the first genuine smile Harry had ever received from Malfoy. It changed his face completely; suddenly Harry understood why girls like Pansy Parkinson were mad about him.

"Why are you telling me that?" Harry asked when Draco was already halfway out the door.

Draco smiled again. "Maybe that's my way to express my gratitude for being forgiven," he said and silently closed the door behind him.


	5. Epilogue: Redefinition

**_Epilogue - _REDEFINITION**

One week passed, then another. People came and left, and the members of the Order slowly got used to the new situation. Mad-Eye Moody had given Draco some Veritaserum and then questioned him for a painful hour which had Draco in tears more than once until Molly Weasley had put a stop to it all. Mad-Eye sulkily obeyed, but it appeared that he believed Draco now as well.

The Order of the Phoenix had been redefined. After the loss of Dumbledore and Snape, its very core had been shattered; only slowly had the gap been filled. The new center of the Order was now Remus. He coordinated everyone's work, collected and categorized the information they brought in and spent hours developing new plans and strategies to infiltrate Voldemort's environment. He had stopped going undercover with the werewolves; if he ever got near to Fenrir Greyback these days, he would not live to tell. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco learned a lot from him. They did not go back to Hogwarts, which was closed until further notice, but they felt that the things they learned from Remus were probably more important than what their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher – whoever it would have been – could ever teach them.

Harry spent hours thinking about Ginny, too. She was still in Romania, and he had not dared yet to write her the letter. The others tried to persuade him – Hermione had even presented him with a draft letter pointing out all the important things a girl expected to hear in such a situation -, but Harry felt that the time had not yet come.

But one evening in early September, he thought he heard an inner voice tell him that it was now time to write the letter.

He excused himself from the surveillance room where they had been sitting with Remus and Tonks and went to his room. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write, not once pausing, until he had filled three pages with his scribbly handwriting. He did not take the time to re-read what he'd produced; he called for Hedwig, gave her the letter and two extra pieces of owl cake, stroked her and whispered, "Take this to Ginny, Hedwig. Be careful. It's probably the most important letter I ever wrote."

Hedwig hooted softly, as if she had understood him, and took off.

**xxx**

Two days later, Remus clattered down the stairs and called the names of everyone he thought was in the house. Harry had hardly ever seen him so excited, and he knew that something pivotal must have happened.

He was right.

"I received a message from a witch in San Francisco, in America," Remus told them hastily. "She told me she'd been to the library in her own School of Magic and found a book by a wizard who might very well be our mysterious R.A.B."

Everyone was silent for a moment, then their voices rose.

"R.A.B.!"

"In America!"

"He wrote a book?"

"Is she sure? How can she be sure?"

"Were the Horcruxes mentioned?"

"What did she say?"

Remus waved his hands over his head. "Please, let me finish," he shouted over the noise. "She din't say much; she was afraid the floo network might still not be secure. But she's waiting for us. We have half an hour to pull ourselves together and get a Portkey. We won't Apparate; there's too many of us. And Long-Distance Apparition is very tricky, especially for young wizards."

Molly looked at Remus. "You don't plan to take the kids with you, Remus," she said sternly.

"Actually, I do, Molly," Remus replied kindly. "They have a right to learn what she has to say. Harry found the message by R.A.B., so he should be the first to know who he is, shouldn't he?"

"But You-Know-Who…"

"… is not in America, that's for certain," Remus interrupted her.

"Half an hour," said Arthur hastily to Harry and the others before Molly could utter any further protestations. "Get ready, quick."

Ron and Hermione had already stormed up the stairs, and Harry was just about to follow them when Draco snatched his arm.

"What?" Harry hissed impatiently.

"I think you should look outside," Draco said, unperturbed by Harry's impolite tone.

Harry turned and gasped. The figure he saw walking towards the house was none other than Charlie Weasley. And if Charlie was here, it could only mean that he had taken Ginny home. Had she received his letter?

"Don't mess it up, Potter," Draco murmured. "Remember, we're at war. You should savor every moment of your old life, as long as you have it."

"Did you savor life, Draco?" Harry asked suddenly.

Draco's expression darkened. "Oh yes," he said. "It wasn't always for the best, but yes, I savored life. And that's what you should do before darkness closes in."

Harry nodded silently.

He took a deep breath, went to the door and opened it, only to look into Ginny's beautiful eyes. She was standing before him, hand still raised as if she'd been about to knock.

Harry suddenly felt light-headed. Seeing her again after everything that had happened was like a return home after a long journey.

"Hello," he managed after a while.

Ginny looked at him, and their eyes locked. They spent several minutes just looking at each other, and Harry felt all the long lost feelings wash over him again, filling his void veins again with life and youth, and the sensation was old and new at the same time. When Ginny raised her hand to touch his cheek, it was almost anticlimactic.

"I got your letter," she said calmly.

Harry didn't speak, and she continued. "I never once put it away."

Finally her face broke into a smile that seemed to shine from the inside, and her warm light touched Harry, reached his heart and chased all the shadows and the darkness away. The bond between them had never been broken, he realized. It would have been impossible to keep away from her.

Strange, he thought, as he felt her arms around him, her lips on his face, that love, this most magical sensation in the world, was something that had absolutely nothing to do with the kind of magic he knew. And he knew that this was the way it should be. There was no better defense against the darkness of mind than this.

Still holding her in his arms, he looked at Ginny. "I'm so glad you're back," he said. "And I'm sorry…"

"Don't!" said Ginny, closing his mouth with a kiss. "You wrote everything there was to say. I'm glad you finally found reason. I'll follow you to the very end."

Harry smiled. "We'll save the end for later. How about America, to start with?"

**THE END**

_End Note:__Perhaps I should make one thing clear: I do NOT believe that Snape has really gone bad (or rather: has been bad all along). But this story is supposed to be about Malfoy, not Snape. Besides, Snape must act like a true Death Eater if he wants to keep his cover. Whether he would really kill Narcissa remains doubtful, but for the purpose of this story, he does. I do realize there are some logical gaps in this story (as the very first reviewer as been kind enough to point out), but plot wouldn't let me do it differently. As to R.A.B., I have my own theory about who he might be, and that someone is not in America… I just thought the end of this might be a nice allusion to "Charmed". But this story is a work of fiction, and it doesn't even tally completely with my theory as to how HP might go on after book seven. None of my stories do. That's why I write them._

_Thanks for reading this._


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